Bonk!

As humans, we are complex creatures. A friend tells you she doesn’t like contemporary art and then you run into her at an art museum premiering the contemporary work of Pick-An-Artist. “Well, this artist is the exception,” she explains to you. We are riddled with such declarations and exceptions. We are ever-changing, which makes us interesting. Some of our preferences can be influenced. A political candidate becomes likeable after a persuasive conversation with someone. Other preferences cannot be argued. I don’t like mint. We could carry on a conversation about the pros and cons of mint, but really, there is no persuading me that mint is a likeable flavor. Truly, there is no accounting for taste. Nonetheless, give it seven years, and who knows, perhaps peppermint bon bon will be my favorite ice cream flavor. We know this about ourselves. There is no person on this Earth with whom we share the same opinion of everything. Thank goodness. I know this, and yet, when I am asked for a book recommendation, I feel a slight sense of panic when a customer leaves Beagle Books with a copy of one of my favorite titles in their possession. We all like a variety of books. So, why am I afraid to tell you that I LOVE the book Bonk by Mary Roach? It’s well-written and well-researched, and so, so funny. The author used to write a humor column for Reader’s Digest. She’s written several books, including a bestseller titled Stiff, a book about, well, the dead. So when you come to me and say, “I loved your recommendations of Mudbound, Moonflower Vine, Charlatan, So Brave, Guernsey, and Remedies, what else do you suggest?”, why do I never hand you a copy of Bonk and say, “Here, I loved this book.” True to the Scandinavian reserve of my fellow Minnesotans, I’m guessing it’s because I’m embarrassed by the book’s subject matter: sex. I have finally braved to put a copy of my Staff Picks shelf, but you’re on your own to find it. And who knows, maybe you’ll suspect it was placed there by mistake. To be honest, this blog entry is probably as close as I’ll come to suggesting this title to anyone. (Sorry, Mary Roach.) I do in fact love this book, it’s not on my Staff Picks shelf by mistake, but just don’t, you know, tell anyone.